


Impoverished by Providence

by sourcheeks



Series: A Forgotten Spot in the Caribbean [1]
Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton (Miranda)
Genre: M/M, and there's no sex, im not totally sure that the underage warning even applies but it's there anyhow, underage but they're both underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:47:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6555871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcheeks/pseuds/sourcheeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron had run before, but never this far. Starving and alone on the streets of Nevis, he is taken in by the Hamilton family, a mother and young son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nevis

Aaron had never meant to come out this far. As soon as he stepped off the boat, it all felt horribly real. But he didn’t regret it. At least… not at first. But he couldn’t speak French, and he had nowhere to stay. With no food, no shelter, and little way to communicate, it was a miracle he lasted the almost two weeks he did, stealing scraps and finding naturally-growing fruit. He still remembered the first time he saw Alexander.

Alexander was his age, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him. Aaron had grown gaunt over the last two weeks, but Alexander was straight-up runty. He looked like he couldn’t have been more than six, arms like toothpicks and covered in a thin layer of grime. He was shouting at some older boys, hands balled into fists at his sides. The older boys were laughing, swearing at him and ignoring his threats. Little Alexander took a swing, and one that connected. It looked like he’d actually hurt one of the others, who were both about three times his size. One of them shoved Alexander hard, and he went sprawling in the dirt. Aaron couldn’t just watch these two beat on some kid. He stepped forward, shouting.

“Hey! Leave him alone, you two! What kind of cowards are you, fighting kids?” Aaron probably didn’t stand a chance against them either, but that wasn’t the point. They sneered down at him and laughed, but they left, and that was all Aaron really cared about. He went to go check on the kid they’d been heckling. “Are you okay? Do you speak English?” Aaron extended a hand to help him up.

“I don’t need any of your charity,” the boy replied, hauling himself to his feet. Aaron flinched back like he’d been burnt.

“I’m really sorry. I just wanted to help. Hey, you shouldn’t have been fighting those guys. How old are you, anyways?”

“Eleven and a half.”

Jesus. Kid was tiny for his age. Looking at him, Aaron guessed he hadn’t been raised on a superb diet. And hey, nothing grows in the shade. “Yeah, you wanna live to twelve? Stop fighting folks who’re practically grown."

Alexander huffed and tried to walk away. He fell a few moments later, groaning. Aaron guessed one of the older boys had hurt his leg. He went to help Alexander.

“Are you hurt?” Aaron asked, inspecting his leg. Alexander growled at him.

“I’m fine. Leggo.” Alexander tried to pull away, but Aaron didn’t let him.

“Please, you can barely walk. At least let me take you to your home.”

Alexander seemed reluctant to trust him, which Aaron totally got, but he nevertheless clearly needed help, and he directed Aaron to his house. It was a dingy little apartment with the door falling off the hinges. They were greeted by a woman, presumably Alexander’s mother, based on the way she pulled Alexander to her chest.

“Oh, you’re hurt, lie down,” she mumbled, and Alexander looked like he wanted to protest but he didn’t, limping to the back room. His mother turned to Aaron. “Thank you for helping him, I do worry.”

“It was no problem, I just… there were two kids, and they were a lot bigger than him. I didn’t want anybody to get hurt.”

“You’re a good man.” She smiled at him. She looked him over, seeming to take in his newly-bony frame, his ripped clothes, his dirty skin. “Have you got anywhere to stay?”

“Yes,” Aaron lied through his teeth.

“I’m sure. Where?”

Aaron stumbled over his words, caught in his bluff. “I’ve just been… you know… places.”

“Stay here, please? For tonight. I want to repay you. My son could have been seriously injured, maybe even killed.”

Aaron’s stomach turned at the thought of those two boys, practically men, ganging up on a kid Alexander’s size. What on earth had he done to piss them off? “He wouldn’t have been killed.”

Alexander’s mother smiled. “You don’t know much about the people here, do you? Come, you can share a room with Alexander tonight.”

Aaron nodded dumbly as she lead him to the same back-room he’d seen Alexander go through. The smaller boy was there on the cot, grumbling to himself and pressing a cloth to his shin. When he pulled it away, Aaron saw blood. He must have cut himself on the rough gravel.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked, brow furrowing in concern. Alexander’s head snapped up.

“What’s he doing here, Mom?” he asked. His voice wasn’t defensive, like it had been before. He didn’t even sound upset. He just sounded… exhausted.

“He doesn’t have anywhere to stay, Alexander,” his mother began softly. “And he did get those boys to leave you alone.”

“That’s cause they don’t like fair fights,” Alexander supplied, turning to Aaron. “They couldn’t pick off two of us as easy.”

Aaron didn’t exactly think him and Alexander against the two of them was a fair fight, but he didn’t say as much. “They can’t like fair fights if they’re picking on eleven year olds.”

Alexander nodded and began to stand, wincing. “Is he staying here?”

“For tonight, at the very least.” Alexander’s mother said. She turned to Aaron. “What’s your name?”

Aaron thought about lying, but what good would it do? “Aaron… Aaron Burr.”

“I’m Rachel. This is my son, Alexander.” She glanced at the clock. “I have to go. I’ll leave you boys alone. Alexander, do try to be civil.”

Alexander started to protest, but she was already out the door. He sat on his cot, patting the spot next to him. “You may as well sit down, Aaron, Aaron Burr.”

Aaron sat down hesitantly. “Just, um, just Aaron is okay.” He shouldn’t have said his last name. He hated his last name - not so much the name itself, but what it stood for.

“Okay.” Alexander leaned over to grab a small box of adhesive bandages from the tiny desk near his bed. It was shoddy, nailed-together plywood, and looked like it wouldn’t fit through the narrow door. Aaron suspected that it had been constructed within the cramped room. Alexander put a bandage over the deep cut in his leg, pulling his jeans back down.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Aaron frowned.

“They pushed me. They didn’t even hit me.” Alexander shrugged, leaning against the wall.

“Why did they want to hit you?” Aaron asked softly, not wanting to anger him. Alexander laughed bitterly.

“ _Ma mere et mon pere_ were never exactly bound in holy matrimony, y’know? And they think that makes me less of a person.”

“There’s no such thing as less of a person.”

“Exactly.” Alexander tapped his nose. “But tell that to them.”

Aaron made a face. “That’s so wrong.” If not unprecedented. Aaron remembered his grandfather once dragging him away from a friend he had made at the park, declaring for all the world to hear that people like them didn’t associate with bastard beggars. Aaron had been angry at the rules and ashamed of his upbringing for the first time he could remember.

“Wrong or not, that’s how it is. I’m gonna fix it, someday.” Alexander grinned crookedly. “Just you wait.”

Funny thing was, Aaron didn't doubt him. He never could doubt Alexander. Not for a single second.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander finds out where Aaron comes from

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't have a title for this chapter and i'm still not happy with the ending but i've been promising updates on a practically finished chapter for days so

Alexander liked Aaron. He was hesitant to reveal too much of his past, it seemed, but that wasn’t uncommon. Alexander knew he was an orphan, and from the mainland. He stowed to Nevis on a ship. God knows why anyone would want to come here, but he didn’t pry. He’d been living with them for nearly a month, and while they didn’t have much to go around, it was easier now James was out of the house apprenticing. Before, James’s weekly visits were really all Alexander had to look forward to. It was nice, having a friend. 

It was the middle of the night, and for once, Alexander was the one woken up by Aaron moving around the cramped back room. He opened his eyes to find Aaron pacing irritably in what dim moonlight there was to be had. Propping himself up on his elbow, Alexander spoke out. “Aaron? What are you doing?”

Aaron swiveled to face him, clearly surprised. A shy laugh, a sheepish grin. Both familiar, comforting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep.”

"Well, get in bed, yeah? It’s freezing, you’ll catch your death.” He yawned.

“It’s thirty-seven degrees,” Aaron pointed out, but he got in bed anyways.

“Shut up, Aaron.” Alexander rested his head on Aaron’s chest. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“A lot of things.” Aaron’s fingers combed softly through Alexander’s sleep-mussed hair. “My uncle.”

“What about him?” Aaron never, ever, opened up about his family without a good deal of prodding. Alexander couldn’t help but be curious. 

“It’s his birthday tomorrow. Or today, I suppose, depending on the time.”

“Happy birthday to your uncle.”

“He’s not a good man.” Alexander felt Aaron shudder, and he squeezed him sympathetically.

“You don’t have to talk about him. He’s all the way across the water, he can’t hurt you.”

“I hated him. I don’t remember when I started to hate him, but I remember being baffled by the concept of hate, and then one day I just realized the kind of men that were raising me, my uncle and grandfather, they were just…” Aaron took a shaky breath. “They were horrible men, and even worse caretakers. I hated them for what they were doing to me, but more so I hated them because they wanted me to hate everyone  _ but  _ them, because that’s who they hated.”

“Nobody should have to go around with that kind of hatred. It isn’t healthy for you or anyone around you.” Alexander leaned up to look at Aaron, shocked to find tears brimming in his best friend’s eyes. “I’m really sorry, Aaron.”

“Don’t be.” Aaron squeezed his eyes shut. “Let’s just go to bed.”

And so Aaron slept while Alexander mulled over what he’d been told, trying to make sense of it all. Though he didn’t want to believe Aaron had ever lied to him, he knew Aaron was a good liar, he’d seen it. Something just felt wrong, off. Alexander convinced himself that it was just the thought of anyone ever wanting to twist Aaron like that that was making his skin crawl. 

He tried to put it out of his mind, shut down the instincts that were telling him to both demand answers and coddle Aaron so he never had to see those tears again. Alexander wanted to help, even though he didn't know how. Eventually he fell back into a fitful sleep, holding Aaron close. 

\---

The morning brought unwelcome visitors and more than a little worry. A police officer was making rounds of the neighborhood, asking around for a missing person. The name was Aaron Burr, and the description matched. Alexander felt sick to his stomach worrying as he lied to the police officer. 

“You orphan boys, you’re all alike,” the officer said, and to his credit, Alexander stayed calm. 

“I’m not an orphan. Do you have any other information, officer?”

“Yeah. Apparently Burr is some rich kid from the colonies, his family is kicking up a fuss trying to get him back. A ship captain said he saw the kid on a cargo shipment here. So we’ve been asking around.” 

Alexander felt… weird. Aaron wasn’t ‘some rich kid’, Aaron was supposed to be like him… but then again, had Aaron ever said that? He didn’t really talk about his life before he met the Hamiltons. “I’ll tell you if I hear anything.”

“Thanks.” The officer turned to leave and Alexander slammed the door, hands shaking. 

He needed to talk to Aaron.

He stomped to the back room, hands balled into fists. Aaron was lying on the cot, reading. Normally Alexander would squeeze in beside him, read obnoxiously loudly over his shoulder. Aaron would laugh, and then he’d put away the book and they’d talk until all their words ran out. Alexander wanted that. But he couldn’t have it. Not right now. “You’re a liar.”

Aaron looked up, putting the book aside. “I… what?” 

“You’re a liar, and you’re an idiot, Aaron, for ever leaving the mainland. I asked the police officer who’s been looking for you - you had everything, looks like. Opportunities, more than enough to go around, a family who gives enough of a damn to send for you when you go missing.”

Aaron laughed, but it sounded bitter and Alexander wanted it out of his head. “Opportunities? Yeah, I had the opportunity to grow up into a bigot like my uncle or a hypocrite like my grandfather. Or both. And a family that gives a damn? Alexander, how long have I been in St Croix?”

Alexander paused for thought. “Three months, give or take a week or two.”

“Three. Months. They probably thought I was dead, Alexander. Or worse, and more likely, they knew I had run away but they didn’t say anything because that would have been an embarrassment to the family name.  _ There was probably a funeral _ , Alexander, and they probably knew I was alive as they planned it. If I looked hard enough I could find my own obituary and every word of it would be lies. Somewhere in New Jersey there is a headstone with my name.” Aaron took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “But somehow they got wind that I wasn’t dead, and it was public enough that they had to do something about it. They aren’t doing this because they love me, Alexander.”

Alex balled his hands in and out of fists. “So you chose death over your family?”

“They were hardly a family.” Aaron looked away. 

Alexander took a deep breath. “I’m… I can’t do this, Aaron. I’m going to go for a walk. But we aren’t done talking about this.”

Aaron looked genuinely reproachful and Alexander couldn’t deal with that. He stormed out of the tiny room, out of the dingy apartment and into the streets of Nevis, feeling like he might cry. It was nightfall before he felt calm enough to go back.

His mother was crying in the front room, and Aaron’s clothes were gone from the closet.


	3. Bad Things Come in Threes (Or More)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be longer but it was causing me physical pain to write. So, uh, have fun.

Aaron didn’t want to go. But he knew after what Alexander had learned, he was no longer welcome to stay with the Hamiltons. He left a note that simply read ‘I’m sorry’, shoving what few possessions he had into his bag and sneaking out the window. He was running away again, but last time he had felt excited. Now he felt like he’d been swallowing rocks all morning. 

Alexander had looked so hurt, and Aaron couldn’t stand being the cause of that. He couldn’t go home, he knew, but he managed to get across the island with his extremely limited French skills and working to pay people who helped him. Living with the Hamiltons, he had grown used to going without food. He could survive. He was spending the night in the barn of some old woman whose house he had cleaned. She had given him a hot meal, and a cot for the night. He had worked to earn his keep, but his thoughts kept turning to Alexander and Rachel and he knew he didn’t deserve this old woman’s hospitality. He hoped they were okay. He knew he had hurt them. He didn’t want to, but the best way to keep them safe was to get out of their lives. Less people were looking for him on this side of the island, and suddenly none. He wondered if his uncle had decided he must be dead again. He felt dead, all hollowed out and lost. He’d run away before, plenty of times. Leaving the Hamiltons, though, was the only time it felt as if he had left behind a family, people he cared about who cared about him. In the morning, he would keep moving, not put down any roots, just keep going so no one found him and sent him home.

That’s all he had to do. Keep on moving.

 

\---

 

Alexander maybe could have dealt with Aaron leaving. Not well, but he would have been okay eventually. 

Three weeks after Aaron left, Alexander’s mother died.

The two of them had been horribly ill. It was a miracle Alexander lived, and that’s what James was trying to focus on, on keeping his little brother afloat to ignore his loss. But Alexander had turned inwards, and he blamed, rather unfairly, his mother’s death on Aaron. But Alexander didn’t get grieving time. Grief was for boys who could afford it. He got a job, working as a clerk for their landlord so they could keep their dingy little home. He wasn’t paid, but they didn’t have to pay rent anymore. Alexander didn’t like the implications - he really wished the landlord could at least humor him, give him enough for the rent if only to let Alexander hand it right back - but he supposed dirty Creole bastards couldn’t be trusted with money for even short periods of time. Alexander wrote for food money, poems and filler columns for the newspaper. It wasn’t much, but he was paid twice as much for his work as his mother was paid for cleaning houses. Probably could have been paid three times as much as she had been if they didn’t know how desperate he was. For the first time in his life, Alexander Hamilton had something akin to ‘enough’. 

But it wasn’t enough, not really. His mother was dead. His adoptive brother had lied and lied and lied and then run away. His real brother was always exhausted, and to tell the truth so was he. But he pretended it was enough, put on a smile when James came over on Sundays. And, as is the habit of these things, it all started to spiral horribly downwards when his life sort of began to feel okay. 

He lost the apartment. His landlord said he couldn’t hire a tenant - conflict of interest. On the bright side, he was starting to get meager pay, but he didn’t have near enough money to get a room anywhere else. He managed to find a home, living in the parsonage of a church with whom Alexander was convinced was the only holy man on the whole island who didn’t think that he was damned to hell because of his birth.

James fell out of contact with him. He might have been dead. Alexander chose to believe he wasn’t. He couldn’t lose another person, not right now. Maybe not ever again. 

It wasn’t that Alexander wasn’t a hard worker. Many would say he worked a little  _ too _ hard. 

But whenever he finally forced himself into bed, Alexander never could sleep. He would stare at the ceiling in the dim moonlight and think about how maybe, he couldn’t do anything ever again. And each night, he drifted off thinking  _ That doesn’t sound so bad. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.


	4. To Your Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited reunion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry this took so long I'm hella busy with EOCs and projects and applications and trying to finish my french course before the year ends and ugh

Alexander never stopped looking for Aaron. He knew he ought to give up - it had been nearly five years now. But still, he found himself giving traders and police officers a hopelessly outdated physical description whenever he could, and any time he did work for anyone he would ask if they’d been helped recently by anyone named Aaron Burr. Nobody ever had. Sometimes they’d give him food, or a little extra money, obviously sympathy for the loss in his eyes. But none of them could provide his friend.

It was pure chance, finding Aaron at last. He was pulling up weeds for an old woman, when she came out to offer him water and ask if he needed anything else.

“Um, yes, actually. Have you had anyone offer to help you lately, name of Aaron Burr?”

“Why, yes, I have. As a matter of fact, he’s coming back this afternoon. A friend of yours?”

Alexander nodded eagerly, glad Aaron hadn’t had the presence of mind to use a fake name. “Yes, ma’am, I’ve been looking all over for him. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

The old woman regarded her watch. “A couple of hours.”

“I should be done by then - can I please talk to him?”

For once, Alexander was glad to be pitied. The old woman said yes and he returned to pulling weeds, a wicked grin still on his face.

 

Aaron didn’t really know what was going on. He’d showed up to finish his work, maybe earn enough money to rent a room for the night, but he found himself being ushered around back. He barely even noticed the tiny, emaciated boy working in the garden, much less recognized him. He yelped in surprise when a tiny form barreled into him, hugging him tight. “Aaron!”

“Alexander?” His hair had grown out, and he’d gotten a bit taller, but other than that it was Alexander, his Alexander, the one he’d had to leave all those years ago. Aaron cupped his cheek. “You’re okay… I mean, I always hoped, but I never knew, and I was worried about you and your mother, but… you’re okay…”

Alexander’s face crumpled. “Maman… we were ill, and…” He buried his face in Aaron’s chest, starting to tremble. “Right after you left, Aaron. I thought maybe you would hear, maybe you would come back. I felt so lost. I felt weak.”

“You’ve never been weak in your life.” Aaron hugged Alex tightly, feeling his stomach lurch at the news of Rachel’s death. “Do you understand?”

“You weren’t there. You can’t know.” Alexander was sobbing, now. “Why did you leave, Aaron, weren’t we good to you? Weren’t we enough?”

“You were, I wasn’t. I lied. I hurt you.”

“Nothing could have hurt us more than you running away.”

Aaron felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “And yet you still looked for me.”

“I was scared.” Alexander sniffled. “Didn’t want to think you’d died, or gone back to New Jersey… I know things were bad there. I was mad. Please don’t let my being upset when I was eleven wreck me like this for the rest of my life.”

That’s when Aaron started to cry. The old widow offered them a room, just for tonight, and they gladly accepted. A step up from the parsonage for Alexander, and leaps and bounds up from the street for Aaron. And even though it had been years, and they’d both grown and changed, Aaron still felt right with Alexander curled against his chest. He closed his eyes and let Alexander talk.

“I was so scared for so long. I started hoping you were dead because I knew there are people who would do things to you that are worse than death.  But I never lost hope that you were okay, I never stopped looking for you. I needed you. I was barely functional, and I was all alone. I was just a kid. James couldn’t take care of me - he wanted to, but he’s an indentured apprentice, he can’t just leave. I started writing, for the Danish Gazette, and I started working for our landlord. Of course, I couldn’t work for him and be his tenant, but Father Knox is letting me sleep in the parsonage. I’m surviving. But I never stopped worrying about you.”

Aaron felt like crying again. “Alexander… I’ve missed you too. All the time. It’s gotten better, over time, but I was a wreck for months. I never stopped worrying about you.”

They were both quiet for a long time.

“I blamed you for her death,” Alexander whispered.

It’s a knife buried to the hilt in Aaron’s gut.

“I thought, it was all your fault, it was so soon after you’d run away. I thought maybe if she had someone to take care of her… James couldn’t come home, they wouldn’t let him, and I was sick too… I thought if we had someone other than the doctor who didn’t care, who we couldn’t afford, then maybe she would have gotten better. I don’t blame you anymore. You couldn’t have known.”

“I would have come if I had.”

“I know.” 

Alexander rolled over, tucking himself into Aaron’s side. Aaron felt better for the first time in a long time, despite all the accusations.

Alex felt like home. 


End file.
